


Keystone: Year One

by TheRiverDee



Series: Keystone [1]
Category: The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Pre-Canon, Unreliable Narrator, multiple narators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRiverDee/pseuds/TheRiverDee
Summary: Much can happen in a second, especially in the Twin Cities where to some the blink of an eye can seem like an eternity.Keystone is the lesser known sister to Central at least on the surface anyway. Under the quaint store fronts and suburban neighborhoods is a tension. A kind of pressure that turns both cities into a switch loaded tank of gasoline. All it takes is one splash to set it off.So far nobodies rocked the boat to hard, and maybe nobody ever will.Still in a place like this, image what can happen in the 31536000 seconds that make up a year.





	1. Cut Loose

Hartley cringes as the door slams shut behind him and winces as the lock clicks divisively. Sighing the teen slinks down onto the grand steps of the entrance to the gilded cage he'd grown up in. He honestly didn't know what else he had hoped for when they inevitably found out about him. Anger definitely, he understood anger, he understands the yelling and the accusations. After that, begrudging tolerance, just another thing to throw in his face when he disappointed them, _another insult in the family repertoire_.

  
_Not this though, not this - this dismissal. Not this ice out_ , with him sitting out on the stairs. With only the clothes on his back, and a precious few of his belongings in his backpack. At least if it was a fight he had a chance, _a place to stand. An opportunity to refute the claims Osgood made, whatever they may be_. Now he is shaky, still in shock of what just happened and very unsure of how to proceed. Sure, there was the obvious answer; _get the fuck out of dodge before Osgood decides to sick Rachel's dobermans on me, crash at Noire's for the night then figure out what comes next_. Armed with a plan, however temporary, he stands up and dusts himself off before breaking the lock on the garage, uncovering his bike and putting his limited supplies into the saddlebag. He glances around the dark room, searching, first for his jacket for only a moment before he realizes he'd never taken it off. Then for his helmet, taking only a moment to reminisce the stickers Jenni had stuck onto the black and green surface before strapping it around his head and leaving the place he'd never really seen as home.

  
He weaves and rides through the winding roads, past the playground where his mom had taken he and his sisters, before other Rachel had come into the picture. Past the Zoo that the Nanny had taken them when they were all still little, before it was decided that he was defective and needed to be fixed. Riding until he finds the road into town and turns sharply out of the neighborhood, past the empty lot where the theater he'd met Noire and learned how to dance used to be, before it was condemned and burned down, before he knew what sound was. Before he learned to hate hospitals. Before the divorce. Before Osgood had cheated.

  
The wind whipping his hair back, Hartley considers, what he supposes was, his last fight with his father, and grits his teeth and grips the handlebars tighter doing all he can to not swerve as he travels through Central City at high speed. _I should have known better, just humored him a bit longer._ But no he'd let his temper get the better of him. And Osgood for once didn't follow suit, instead the man just stared, _God, the way he'd stared, disappointed, yet completely detached, as if I was just a bad investment, not family, a failed project and nothing more,_ then cut him loose. Set him free, in a way, given him exactly what he'd wanted for years now.

  
So why did he feel so sad about it.

  
Why did he feel so angry.

  
_So bitter._

_So alone._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to say it right out the gates, this chapter was hard. So many emotions all jumbled together, so much hurt. Hartley is a special little muffin and I love him all I can, but god damn he is hard to write. Then again it may have just been his state of mind after that nasty fight, which I had to cut out it just wasn't happening.
> 
> all in all Piper is not in a good place right now.


	2. Chapter 2

“No.” 

“Come on wally, it’s not a death sentence” that isn't the point mom 

“I don’t need a babysitter.” HE was thirteen , what was he going to do, use the blender without the cap on? 

“your Aunt and Uncle aren’t baby sitting you," his mom quickly defending the younger couple, "they’re just watching you until I can get you.” 

“That's the same thing!" Wally rolls his eyes and looks away from the window to give her a rather incredulous look , "Are you sure you're smarter than me?" That makes mom laugh. He pouts as the car pulls into a school, his new school, parking lot. 

"Have fun kiddo!" he shakes his head and steps out of his Mom's car, and starts walking towards the school. 

Nobody takes him seriously. 

 

Ever. 

 

Which was stupid, Auntie Irie's husband asked him no less than three times last Thanksgiving to explain the what the triple point of a chemical was. He out smarted the smartest adult he knew, that should get him some freedom. But no, he wasn't allowed to leave the house unless he was with friends, you know the people he'd been forced to leave in Nebraska thanks to his dad's promotion. Why would a promotion send them to Kansas anyway? There wasn't much more here than in Bluewater, the biggest difference was the size of office where his dad works. 

 

Wally's musings end when he walks into a wall. Which is beyond embarrassing, not only is he normally less clumsy than this, it's his first day at this school and he literally walks into the wall right next to the door. 

 

"just shoot me in the head." he mutters under his breath and looks at his map sighing before he starts walking to the other entrance on the other side of campus where the office was located. Why did Keystone middle school need to be this big? And he's early enough that the school is mostly void of students and couldn't even ask for directions. Then again early was better than late. 

 

Schedule and map in hand, he walks up the stairs to the second floor.This school was massive compared to his old one in Bluewater, Nebraska. That seemed to be a running theme in the entirety of this experience, bigger city with bigger buildings and bigger dangers. Back in Blue water he could have just rode his bike the three miles home from school. Here he has to go to the Allen's and get picked up by his mom when she's done with work. 

He finds his classro – homeroom, he wasn't just staying in the same class room here no he was running around every hour, fairly easily. The teacher who, while rather nice, somehow still seems surprised to see him shows him where to put his backpack and asks him to write his name on the board. He sits on the end of the table at lunch and answers the questions that people throw at him. It's weird for a new kid to arrive so late in the school year, so people are excited to talk to him, but still give him a bit of a wide berth since they don't know him. 

 

All in all, a fairly normal day. 

 

He waits a long time for his Uncle to pick him up, wishing mom would trust him enough to let him ride the bus instead of this overly complicated system of being picked up and dropped of by multiple people. He'd be fine. He was thirteen after all. Its not like he would blow up the house or anything. He'd probably just watch tv and look up random stuff on the internet. Nothing else to do here. 

 

She could at least give him a phone so he could call her and walk to the Aunt Irie's house from here. It would be faster than sitting here at the very least. Why did the coolest adult in his life have to be terminally late? And how the hell did Aunt iris put up with it, she hates tardiness even more than he does for crying out loud. Wally fidgets against the school gate, there aren't that many other kids at this point and the ones that are still here make it clear that they aren't interested in conversation. If it weren't late march Wally might have considered using extracurriculars as a way of mitigating this little problem, but all the teams are filled up by now and he has zero musical talent so choir was out. 

 

HONK HONK!!-- Wally cringes as the car barely rolls to a stop a few feet past him, and tries to look appropriately annoyed as Barry Allen rolls down the window."hey Kidd!" why did people keep calling him that he was 13! "How was the first day of school?" 

"Fine" he really didn't want to talk about school today about all the uncomfortable questions and him missing his friends.

"Well" wally braces himself for more questions that never come, "I know I'm starving, and as an eigthgraqder you need to eat, wanna go get big belly burger I still have some stuff I need to look over for a case" wally blinks he thouroughly had not expexted that

"yeah" he supposed Uncle Barry wasn't all bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i was hoping to have two chapters out by the end of april, those being the Chapters for Jan and april. However I was hit over the head by the teachers strike hear in AZ (not complaining about it I fully support those men and women who are fighting not only for their rights, but for the rights of their students) and Finals. So instead you only get april. Sorry. I'm not taking more than 2 classes next semester so I should be able to catch up and get ahead, but I make no promises.
> 
> Please leave comments down below, they help me get inspired and motivate me when writers block hits.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is there a nice way to say "I hope I never see you again"?

James currently sits in what can only be described as the most uncomfortable chair known to man. He squirms on the grey "cushion".  _Valentines in Verona, did airport chairs always have to be unpleasant to sit in, where they designed to be this way_? After a moment of pondering this, he pushes the question out of his head and looks to the foster care worker on his left. The woman lets out a huff and shoves her phone into her purse then fidgets irately with a charm bracelet that goes with absolutely none of the rest of her attire.   

  

"Trouble in paradise, Dinah?"Can he call her Dinah? Probably not, he does anyway, snickering at the jolt she does in the very uncomfortable chair. She's surprised, it's more fun when they're surprised.  

  

"what?"  

  

"With that boyfriend of yours" he bites back a laugh, oh god the look on her face right now," the one that apparently can't seem to remember Valentine's day"  

  

"Oh my god"  he glances at Dinah — Ms. Lance, and  she's laughing—what the fuuu~?, " that is amazing, and I thought it strange when Bruce di- how did you know about Ollie?" Well, this is a first, most people just call him a freak.   

  

"I have eyes?" He shrugs, she laughs at that too, "Seriously, this Ollie should have at least gotten you some chocolates." Especially since the man had given her that bracelet, that thing did not look cheap. He takes advantage of her distraction and glances around the waiting area and out the window, briefly wonders why the hell it was always raining in Gotham, sees the plane that they were probably taking to wherever she was taking him. He stands up and stretches"  so who's the wack job you're sending me to this time?"   

  

"Just because the last few families haven't worked out doesn-" she gets cut off by the announcement of their plane boarding. He gives her his most innocent smile and shrugs before picking up his bags and walking over to the boarding desk  

  

"Ms. Lance," James says after they enter the plane,  all jokes about his new foster family aside, he needed info, she had it" I get that you really want me out of the system, and believe me, nobody wants that more than I do."   

  

"I'm sensing a but there" that got an honest, if not slightly bitter, laugh out of him. He likes this lady she had a sense of humor and a decent brain to go with that pretty face of hers, made it easier to be respectful. Whoever this Ollie guy was he was an idiot.  

  

"heck yeah," swearing was never endearing, "You're new to the disaster zone that is me," self-deprecation typically was though, "so you don't know anything about my case beyond the files they handed you, and the shi-stuff you don't know— can I please get a chance to explain myself, just for once."   

  

"Alright then"    

  

"Thanks," James takes a moment to compose himself, before starting his rebuttal to the Foster System.  

 

* * *

 

 

"In order to do that I need at least a year of uninterrupted education and in order for that to happen, I need a competent guardian. So, nobody wants this to work out more desperately than I do" He says pauses in his very long rant to look at Ms. Lance who nods and motions for him to continue on," but I'm not an idiot" he almost spits out the word, "I am capable of seeing patterns, and have a fairly good idea of exactly what's on my file."   

  

"So you're saying that whoever we're sending you to is probably-" her voice trails off in a mixture of mortification, rage and what is unmistakable, stomach clenching, pity.   

  

"An absolute Wack-a-mole? Yeah. That or some really sympathetic senile rube.Guess which one I'm hoping for."  Ms. Lance looks at him for a moment before rifling through her carry-on bag   

  

"Jay and Joan Garrick," she rattles off  "University professor and a reporter respectively, they've been given similar cases before but never any quite as" she pauses trying to find the least offensive word though she really didn't have to bother he won't have cared, " as extensive as yours" James bites back a snide remark on the rather obvious nature of that statement, she was on his side. She pulls out a rather thick manila file and shoves it at him, " I am inclined to believe that they're good people, but I suppose I am biased."   

  

"Thanks," James mutters  as he stares at the file in his hands,  

  

"don't mention it."  

  

"I'm serious, th- Mmf! " his enthusiasm is cut off by the pressing of the palm of a long-nailed hand to his mouth and what do you know, goth makeup actually does do something other than make you look like a depressed vampire.  

  

"So am I, James," she says removing her hand as she adjusts herself, "breathe a word about this and I lose my job. Now sit down and memorize that file because I need it back as soon as we reach the flight exchange"   

  

"yes ma'am" She shakes her head at the salute he gives her  

* * *

 

  

The rest of the trip is spent in relative silence, he hands the file back to Ms. Lance after reading it top to bottom three times, afterward she very smartly responds to any communication attempt by throwing some kind of brain teaser puzzle toy at him.  

  

That was fine until they boarded the plane to St. Louis.    

  

At least Dinah is willing to talk to him now, probably helped that it wasn't an overnight flight this time around. But God in heaven, how he hates planes.  He hates how small they were, how the person by the emergency escape always falls asleep, hates being up so high, how easy it would be to take over and crash one of these things into the ground, the damning feeling of falling that accompanies both landing and takeoff.  Now he's in a window seat—Oh God why-- and couldn't not see the vertigo-inducing height he was trapped at. All James could do was stare down at his puzzles as he hurtles through the sky in a giant metal death trap at a rate he couldn't control. Flinching at every bump and shake of turbulence, Jesus H Christ on a pogo stick, what had he done to deserve this. This is purgatory, but only because it can end. The comm announces the landing and he's sighing with something close to relief.   

  

He feels Ms. Lance tap on his arm and he sucks in a breath, it may be curtains for this trial, but that didn't mean that he'd catch a break.  At least he was off the plane. 

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, James and Ms. Lance take a bus from the airport to a train station, which admittedly was a little strange. After all there was an airport in Central City, which is a really stupid name in his opinion. James wasn't complaining though, it's not that long a train ride from St Louis to Keystone and what's three hours on a train to the nightmare of flight. It nagged at him as a question in his mind, but it doesn't bother him until he sees the city, and the familiar circular storm clouds above it, in the distance.  _W_ _hat_ _the hell!_ _Central is_ _in Kansas_ _, kind of_ _,_ _as_ _far from the coast you could get_ _!_ _It's_ _Feburary_ _for_ _Christ's_ _sake! How_ _was there a freaking_ **hurrican** **e** _over_ _half of the city_ _?_ _How the fucking hell did a storm system_ _like_ _that_ _only_ _cover half a city?!_ All he can do is stare out the window at the sight, mouth open in silent terror as they hurtle past and even though this storm here is much smaller, far too small to merit the title of hurricane.  James is reminded of the last time he had seen those kinds of clouds and feels a visceral terror clench around his stomach.  

 

He turns away from the sight and squeezes his eyes closed tightly against tears; only to snap them open abruptly his breathe stuttering and labored. Ms. Lance asks if he's ok, and he physically has to hold back the nervous and bitter laughter that threatens to spill out of his mouth or maybe that's just his breakfast rising up from his stomach.  Either way he swallows it down, hard. He quickly mutters an excuse and walks to the bathroom; locking the door behind him before throwing up.  

 

After expelling his breakfast and what James is pretty sure was most of the bile in his duodenum, he wipes off his mouth and sits back exhausted. Leaning back he adjusts himself until he's lying on the floor the plain tiles cooling against his flushed face. He closes his eyes and just breathes. _S_ _eriously it's_  February _in_ **K** **ansas** _and those clouds were yellow, but that was_ _definitely_ _not a tornado._ _Well_ _that at least explains why they couldn't_ _just land in Central._ Suddenly theres a knock at the door and James sits up already mentally conjuring up the image of one of his former foster sisters specifically her voice. 

 

"uh occupied?" He the pitch but nails the preteen's snotty tone. 

 

"hey are you ok in there?" Ms. Lance's voice called back,  _oh fudge right, she was supposed to be keeping an eye on him_. "I'm on my period!" He says still mimicking the girl he used to live with. There's a beat of silence. 

 

"Take your time sweetie, I'll be back in an hour." He thinks he can hear a smile somewhere in the resignation. He moves so that he's pressing an ear to the door and listens as she goes back to her seat.  _Good_ _._  He sighs and pulls out a pair of bright pink and green earbuds and a music player he'd stolen from one of the many families he's been with over the past three years and selected a random song. He's been through his dozens of times. Smile, handshake, wait while the adults talk and finalize the paper work. Still he fact is that this needs to be the end of this part of his life, the end of the aimless wandering. He really can't afford to fuck this up.  His trauma was his and, as much as he likes Ms. Lance, he's going to keep it like that for now thank you very much. 

 

Head phones jammed in his ears now blasting some random metal song on a stolen music player,he's not opening this door until the end of this new hell. Apparently, he does _infact_  have some pride left. 

 _Who'ld've_ _thought?_  

 

* * *

 

 

After an hour of chasing people away with various impressions of various people, he picks himself up off the ground and walks to the sink. There's enough stigma against teenagers as it stands, wearing his teen angst bullshit on his sleeve is not conducive to a good first impression. And after a quick glance in the mirror he shudders in agreement, yeah, better to at least seem to be part of their happy shiny hive mind than to be seen in this sorry state. After some minutes of scrubbing the tear track and bile off his face he hears a knock at the door. 

"hey James" Ms lance's voice calls out gently, " its been an hour, you alright in there?",  _Is_ _there_ _a_ _nice way to say '_ _I hope I never_ _see you_ _again'_ _?_  The honest answer is no, to both of these questions,"we need to get going", _but_ _it’s the_ _end of the line for now_ _,_  so he forces out a smile, _big_ _,_ _beamy_ _,_ _obviously_ _fake._  

 

He opens the door.  

 

" Cool of you to ask but as you can see I am fine!" He says voice shrill smile quickly turning manic, " Never better actually" He doesn't look her in the eye instead grabbing the rest of his stuff from her hands and walking to the exit. Ms. Lance  puts a hand on his  shoulder and all but pushes him down the walk way.  In the train station she points out the elderly couple who hold a large sign emblazoned with their names.  She helps load his stuff into the back of the Garricks' car, it doesn't look like much but turns out nearly four years' worth of ideas have enough heft to complicate things.  It takes abit but eventually its time to go.  

 

"Good bye Mr and Mrs Garrick." Ms lance says smiling as she shakes their hands one last time she then leans over to the window " I hope you find the success your looking for James" 

 

"Thanks, Goodbye Ms.Lance" he says rolling up the window," I hope I never see you again," he mutters as the car drives away from the station. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god its complete! Oh my god. Un beta'd and unedited but complete. if any thing looks weird let me know in the comments. I will hopefully posting the next chapter soon to make up for the lack of new chapter for March, but honestly I can't guarantee anything. I'm sorry.


	4. Hiatus Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! but this is necessary

Hey there internet! 

I realized recently exactly how far behind I am on this story and how lack luster the chapters I have posted so far have been. Or rather I have rediscovered problems I told myself I would fix later. Well gues what folks it's later, and I havent even tried to fix them. Additionally, this summer I am taking classes as well as working two jobs and I have been reached out too by a writer who wants to work with me on a comic. That being said I am not going to be posting the next chapter until I have fixed the issues that I ignored in favor of posting on schedule. 

Now the plan is to have all these edits, corrections, and much needed plot developments done by October but I can't make any guarantees. Doing so would effectively be doing and dishing out the same shit I have been doing this whole time, saying it doesn't stink. This is a process that is going to take time that I may or may not have in the coming months. 

That’s right this fic is going on hiatus for an indeterminate amount of time. I'm not giving up on this fic though, I have spent too much time on it at this point to do that. 

This series will be finished out of sheer spite if it had to be. 

 

If anyone wishes to help me end the hiatus sooner feel free to send me a scream at SpookySk4rySkeletons on tumblr! 

the river dee


End file.
